


Come A Little Bit Closer

by Verilidaine



Series: Guardians of the Galaxy Vignettes [1]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Drinking, Gen, M/M, Movie Spoilers, Nightmares, Rocket/Yondu if you squint, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 05:11:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10960386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verilidaine/pseuds/Verilidaine
Summary: In which the author creates a moment of peace for Yondu's contemplation, and then attempts to deal with her excessive feelings about this movie through Rocket's contemplation when it's all over.





	Come A Little Bit Closer

While Kraglin worked on getting the rear thrusters functioning after the explosion during separation from the main ship, Yondu watched as Rocket emptied and repacked his bag for the third time.  The first time had seemed like a normal precaution, taking inventory and making sure he knew where everything was.  The second time, overly-cautions double checking.  The third, and Yondu was seeing patterns in the racoon’s movements as small, far-too-clever hands checked over a weapon, counted the mini incendiaries.  Rocket muttered to himself the whole time, humming occasionally.  If pressed, Yondu would have guessed he didn’t have a choice in his counting. One by one, the incendiaries passed through Rocket’s fingers.  
  
Yondu reached up to touch his new fin yet again, remembering how those fingers had felt on him.  Rocket had even fixed the interface that had kept the fin a prototype for so long, seeing the flaw the moment he’d started working on it and correcting it in moments.  Yondu had expected the installation to hurt-- _anything_ involving his fins had always hurt unless performed by the very best bio-techs and even that was uncomfortable--but he’d barely felt it.  Rocket had been quick, efficient.  If he was being sentimental, Yondu would say gentle. The creature on the floor, now starting a fourth count of his bag’s contents, understood the agony of having tech stitched to flesh.    
  
If he was being very, _very_ sentimental, Yondu might enjoy having those hands on him again.  But that thought was quickly pushed away.  
  
The thing was, Rocket had had no reason to take the extra care.  Yondu had been bracing for the pain, and wouldn’t have blamed Rocket for it in the slightest. He’d said as much, and it would have been a much easier installation for Rocket to just _not care_.  But he’d spared Yondu those moments of agony.    
  
Groot walked over and watched Rocket count.  The fourth inventory was completed, and the young being reached an arm up, growing it out, and brushed a leaf against Rocket’s ear. Rocket jumped, looked up from his bag, then down at Groot.    
  
“I am Groot.”  
  
There was a long pause, then, “Yeah, you’re right,” Rocket said, and fastened the bag.  “Thanks buddy.”  He glanced back as Kraglin reappeared, then stood up and adjusted his pants.  He headed back for the console.  “Right, this rig ready to go?”  
  
“Sure is,” Yondu said, tapping into the systems status.  “So where we headed?” He looked over and saw Rocket scanning through the directory.    
  
“Ego.”  
  
\---  
  
After the lights of the funeral faded, Rocket crept away from the bridge.  Quill and Gamora were holding each other and looking out and Groot was safely asleep with Drax.  Kraglin had disappeared to who-knows-where, Mantis was more likely to get lost than find anywhere Rocket wanted to be, and Nebula was already gone from the ship, so finding a place to curl up in solitude wouldn’t be very hard.  
  
He found a small alcove with a window and tucked himself in, curling his tail around his feet and leaning his head on the acrylic glass.  His fur was already wet from tears so what difference would a few more make?  
  
Eventually, the ship’s course altered.  Rocket watched the changing starscape outside, then pulled a flask out of one of his pockets.  It wasn’t going to help, ultimately, but it could dull everything for a while.  
  
\---  
  
He started awake with a gasp, scrambling upright and reaching--  
  
His claws hit the window and he stared at the emptiness beyond, working to breathe, to remember how to breathe to know that he could breathe to believe that he wasn’t floating out there with the rest of the corpses--  
  
There were no corpses.  No Quill, no Yondu, no Ravagers.  
  
His ear twitched and he realized it was his name being called, probably what had woken him up.  He rubbed his eyes and groaned, then checked the time.  It was the next day.  It sounded like everyone was looking for him, but since they didn’t seem to be anywhere and nothing seemed to be happening, he curled back up and didn’t reveal himself.  Eventually, his comm crackled.  
  
“Rocket.”  It was Peter.  “Just tell me you’re okay, and we’ll leave you alone.”  
  
Rocket sighed and watched the stars tilting.  Why were they tilting?  He lifted his flask.  Empty.  That’s why the stars were tilting.  Good thing he had a spare.  “I’m okay, Quill.”  
  
“Thank you.  There’s extra rations in the mess when you need food.”  The comm went dead.  
  
Rocket sighed and fished out the next flask and took a swig, hoping it would help melt away the images of frozen faces and clouded eyes that felt burned into his mind.    
  
Yondu’s face, burned into his mind.  He’d brought the frozen corpse back to the ship, and knew exactly what his death would have looked like.  He’d watched dozens of Ravagers die that same way, seen the gasping moments of terror, expecting to be one of them before the night was over.    
  
Had Yondu been able to control that so Peter wouldn’t have to see it?    
  
He took another swallow of the burning alcohol.  If anyone could’ve done it, it was Yondu.  He understood how to hide what he was feeling.  
  
_Fuck._  
  
Rocket choked back a sob and pressed his head to the window, breath unsteady.    
  
_Why?_  
  
Chaos, uncertainty, random fucking chance.  Self-sacrifice.    
  
Love.  
  
This time he couldn’t stop the sob.    
  
_I’m all alone, and the night is so long--_  
  
Rocket had already looked for the song in Quill’s new music and hadn’t found it.  He didn’t know what it was called and he didn’t know who he could ask.  Because to ask for that song, to say it out loud, would mean admitting--  
  
_Come a little bit closer--_  
  
Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.  
  
His ear twitched to the side and he turned his head to follow, and watched Groot climbing up to him.  Rocket stared at him, then rubbed at his eyes again and sighed, trying to steady his breath.  “Hey, pal,” he said, and reached over to help Groot the rest of the way up.  The young creature climbed up his arm and settled on Rocket’s shoulder, cuddling against him.  
  
Rocket sighed.  He loved Groot, he did, but he didn’t really want him around right now.  There were times--selfish, drunk times--when he resented Groot’s presence for only reminding Rocket of what he had been before.  It just led to questions, and feelings, like what if Groot grew up and didn’t remember the life they’d had before the Guardians?  What if he wasn’t really _Groot?_  
  
What if, ultimately, Groot became another lost friend?  
  
_Come a little bit closer, you’re my..._  
  
“I am Groot?”  
  
Rocket reached up to rub Groot’s back.  “Yeah.  I really miss him.”  
  
“I ... am Groot?”  
  
Rocket didn’t answer for a long time.  “I know.  But it felt like I’d known him forever.”  
  
“I am Groot.”  
  
_Come a little bit closer, you’re my kind of..._  
  
Rocket pressed his eyes shut.  “He was a good man.”  
  
_Come a little bit closer, I’m all alone, and the night is so long._


End file.
